Acceptable Loss
by John McKeenan
Summary: After several years, Umbrella found her. The company will try to take her. Her friends will try to protect her. But neither side will realize just how important she is. Rated M for horror violence, explicit language, and sexual content.
1. Oppertunity

_**(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I trust the intellect of you, the reader, to figure out the difference between characterization and actual opinion. Unfortunately, in a society so quick to respond without thinking, it's best to put this disclaimer in anyway. This story contains politically incorrect statements that I do not endorse. At all. And if you read the entire scene in question, it will be clear that I do not endorse them. At all. What scene is this? I think you'll be able to figure it out.**_

_**Also, it's of note that I'm only a casual fan of RE. Normally I wouldn't bother doing RE fanfiction, but this particular idea won't leave my head. So I did my research with a plot guide by Thomas Wilde that can be found at Game FAQs. (A direct link would be impossible.) Just keep in mind that I might - MIGHT - have gotten a few things wrong in the game canon. Again, if you catch a detail contradictory to the games, let me know (again, through private e-mail, no need to embarrass me in a review) and I'll rework it (provided that I can get it verified).**_

_**Oh, and because I'm really busy with other projects, don't expect this to be updated for a while.**_

_**So to recap, be reasonable, be understanding, be paitent. Have a ball.)**_

_It always starts with opportunity. At first, you resist, but then you learn better after the first year. You take the pain, you play the games, you sing along with whatever song your captor's singing because you don't have much of a choice. Not until opportunity comes along. It takes four years, but it comes. It's a team of people who say they're there to help. They say they're opposed to the people who have captured you and everything they've ever so much as breathed on, and they tell you it's going to be all right. Opportunity comes. Suddenly you don't have to take the pain, nor do you have to play the games or sing the songs because you now have a choice. And you choose to run as fast as you can because you refuse to be a puppet any longer. So you run. You escape the mysterious facility even as your comrades fall around you. You run until you feel like your ankles are about to shatter from stepping so hard, and then you run some more until you finally find civilization. You realize they'll be looking for you, so you start using a fake name when you reach the orphanage. You make up some sob story about your parents being killed in a car crash and the rest of the family disowning you because this time around lying really is the right thing to do. Eventually you're adopted by a loving family. You hang out with them for a couple of years and reconnect yourself, and then you go to college._

_You're afraid you'll be found one day. You're always afraid. But three years have passed and you're still doing okay. Umbrella's dead but you're alive. And maybe you'll have nothing to worry about ever again. There's the one who broke her promise that will probably never see you again, but you forgive her because you've come to peace with the fact that she's still doing something she has to do, and you wish her nothing but the best._

_Still, the weight of the first four of seven years is carried around with you for longer than you could ever want and you know that it won't go away anytime soon because there's something deep inside you that won't let you forget. But you press on because it's all uphill from here. Going uphill means you push a little harder but you do it because anything's better than where you were seven years ago: in pain, playing games you don't want to play and singing songs that should never be sung again._

* * *

**The New Republic - Main Offices  
Washington, D.C.  
November 13, 2006**

Sometimes, reporters in even the most top-flite of news publications have nothing to do but play the waiting game while their source takes their sweet time calling them back. Erica Balk was in such a quandry, but she always knew how to keep herself busy: liberal conspiracy theory propaganda websites.

Erica ate such "news" up. Of course, working on the official in-flight magazine of Air Force One was bound to give one high standards to judge other reporters, especially since the editors were watching them with a focused, unblinking eye (they could thank Stephen Glass for that). Erica, however, could not begin to understand who would trust the people running these websites, over, gosh, even the Weekly World News.

But Erica, despite her inability to trust such material as fact, was always entertained by what a few liberal nuts would do to destroy President Graham.

Today on americanfreedom-dot-net was a lot of the same old, same old. For the third time in a week, there was new evidence that President Graham was re-instituting the draft to bring more soldiers to the Middle East. The source, obviously, was anonymous. Yeah, okay.

There was also...oh, now this was going too far. Apparently, biological weapons developed by Umbrella Pharmecuticals - the same ones that caused the tragedies in Raccoon City and supposedly Sheena Island as well - were still out there. Not only that, the evil President Graham, who was apparently able to rig both his election and re-election because he was a member of the Illuminati, knew about all this and was trying to keep it quiet! And they had the audio tape to prove it! And not only that, this tape proved that the week that Ashley Graham, the First Daughter, disappeared for appendicitus surgery two years ago, she was actually being held hostage by a Democratic insurgency trying to usurp Graham (as previously speculated by americanfreedom-dot-net)! Freedom was dying! Rally! Fight the power! The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots! Thomas Jefferson said it so it must be true!

This was so good, as Stewie Griffin might say, it just _had_ to be fattening. Erica immediately clicked the MP3 of the supposed audio tape and listened.

_Graham: Leon, come on in._

_Leon: Thank you, Mr. President._

_(silence, "Leon" is persumably taking a seat)_

_Leon: What can I do for you today?_

_Graham: Well, first of all, I want to thank you for looking after my daughter regarding all the kidnapping threats we've just had. I know she trusts you dearly after what happened to her a couple of years ago._

_Leon: It was my pleasure, Mr. President. She's a wonderful person. Anyway, I needed the overtime._

_Graham: Well, whether you enjoyed looking out for her or not, you have my gratitude. But the real reason I brought you in today is because of a situation that I'm told you have special knowledge of._

_Leon: Yes, sir?_

_Graham: What do you know about Umbrella Pharmecuticals?_

_(pause. Did Graham strike a nerve?)_

_Leon: I was personally involved with the Raccoon City tragedy. It was my first day on their police force, and for obvious reasons, it didn't work out. I managed to escape the city, and at the same time, I assisted in destroying Umbrella's Arklay facility._

_Graham: With Claire Redfield, is that correct?_

_Leon: Yes sir...she's not--_

_Graham: No, I haven't heard anything. I didn't know if you knew where she was._

_Leon: Last I heard, Europe. With all due respect, Mr. President, what does Claire Redfield have to do with anything?_

_(pause)_

_Graham: I need whatever expertiese you my have regarding Umbrella's chemical weapons, including the T-virus, G-virus, T-Veronica virus, and this new one that you've discovered in Spain, Las Plagas. There may be more, I'm not sure. The reason I asked about Claire is that any additional help we can get, we'll need._

_(pause)_

_Leon: Where's the attack planned?_

_Graham: We don't know if there is an attack planned, to be honest. The best our intelligence could tell us is that if it is pulled off, it'll be in the Northeast. It's easy to assume either here or New York City, but--_

_Leon: It's too big, pardon the interruption._

_Graham: You're the expert, Leon. Go on._

_Leon: It's easy to say that you're going to go after New York City in order to get a grip on the country. But you don't mount a full assault there unless you're suicidal. People know if something's happening in New York City, and they will come after you. That's why you go through the back door, a small town just like Raccoon City was, and you work your way from there._

_(pause)_

_Graham: My fears exactly. This is why I need you to lead this investigation. You'll be working with the CIA to figure out if there will be an outbreak, and if so, where it'll strike. You report to me personally every day with your progress. Is that understood?_

_Leon: Yes sir, Mr. President. I'll get right on it._

_Graham: Taryn has also been briefed on the situation. She'll tell you where you need to report._

_Leon: Thank you, sir._

_Graham: You're dismissed. Good luck._

Erica stopped the MP3 and laughed. DAMN, that was a brilliant impression of President Graham. She'll definitely be fowarding that to FARK later.

The phone rang, and Erica closed out of her web browser and launched Notepad. She picked up the phone.

"New Republic, Erica Balk speaking."

* * *

**Regal Falls, Massachusetts**

It always amazed Elza Schenider how fast the town of Regal Falls responded to snow.

The area was due for an intense blizzard overnight. By daybreak, the town could see as much as twenty-two inches of white stuff. As she drove through the town during sunset, she could see snowplows getting into position, ready to push anything that touches the blacktop off to the side.

God, she loved this town. Big enough to allow materialism, small enough to disappear into. It was a rich community, to be sure; while the majority of residents, including herself, were students that attended Regal Falls University, the second-largest group of residents made over $100,000 a year and it showed. Every building was made of sturdy brick with green and gold signs. The streets didn't have a visible seam. It was just a gorgeous town, one she wanted to move into after she graduated.

This wouldn't be impossible. Math geniuses usually did well in accounting, and Regal Falls University had excellent credentials.

Elza made a right turn and pulled into the local Shop 'n Save's parking lot.

* * *

**JIMMY McNEIL  
Professor  
Department: Sociology**

Ryan Holt was a brilliant student. He knew more about sociology than anyone else, and could quote Weber, Friedan, and Taylor at the drop of a hat. Because he already knew this stuff, the disrepsect he showed in his Social Movements class was enormous, the air of superiority around him so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Jimmy McNeil failed that little shit. Somebody needed to take that fucker down a peg, he rationalized, and it might as well be him.

Jimmy went down to the next name in his gradebook. Elza Schneider. Test grades weren't great; he averaged her out to a C+. She always participated in discussion, though, even if her theories fell flat on their faces. It also helped that she seemed desperate to really get the material down. Jimmy had no illusions: Social Movements was required by the core curriculum. Only a quarter of the students there, half at the most, were in his class out of genuine interest.

The C+ average became a B.

The next name in the gradebook was...empty. He finished his semester grades, and he was amazed that he was able to do so as early as he did. All that was left was to average in the final exam that was coming up in a couple of weeks. Not that it mattered for jerkoffs like Ryan Holt.

Jimmy checked his watch. The Daily Show was on in about an hour and a half...might as well call up Donna and see how she was doing.

He reached for the phone, picked up the reciever, dialed five numbers, and promply hung up. _She needs her space, _he thought to himself, _don't be an asshole here._

As if to respond, whether in confirmation or argument, the phone rang the second he finished his thought. Jimmy reached for it and picked it up. "Hello?"

"...hey, Jimmy."

OK, it responded in argument, and all Jimmy could do was scramble. "Donna, hi, look, I'm--"

"Stop stop stop," struggled Donna, "Look...I need to ask you something."

"Sure, of course, how's L.A.?"

"L.A...Jimmy? Don't you think if you really wanted to marry somebody, you'd know it as soon as the question was asked?"

Jimmy's face dropped. _Shit._ "I...I don't know. It makes sense, you know, but Princess Diana knew he wanted to marry Prince Charles as soon as he asked. Look how well that turned out. A little distance and maybe she'd know better."

Donna laughed that beautiful laugh that she'd only use around Jimmy because only Jimmy could make her laugh like that. "You," she relaxed, "You know how to make things so...uncomplicated."

"Well don't say that if you're gonna just break my heart here! I mean, what kind of ovaries would you have to have for that?"

"I'm not gonna do that, Jimmy," she said, "I know I said I needed a week, but...God, this is so wrong doing this over the phone..."

_This isn't real. Oh my God, it's actually happening._

"Let's do it. Let's get married."

_YES! YES! FUCK YEAH! FUCKING HELL YES! _All those things that Jimmy wanted to shout out into the reciever and to the heavens and anyone else willing to listen he just expressed with a dropped jaw and a misty-eyed laugh.

"This isn't just me thinking it's a good choice and it's not me wanting to make you happy. I love you so much, Jimmy, and I guess I freaked because...I don't know, it just, six months, you know? I was scared, I mean...dammit, you're the one who's supposed to be afraid to commit!"

Jimmy could only laugh and say, "I know, it was my fault that I pushed you away and I am so, so, so sorry, it was...it just feels like fate to me. I don't know--"

"It does, Jimmy...it so does. I'm going to catch the next flight to Boston--"

"Nonononononono!" reacted Jimmy, "Don't do that. I'm coming to you, got it?"

"Don't you have--?"

"I'll get a graduate assistant to teach my classes for now. What are they gonna do? I have tenure."

Donna chuckled. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive! I can't leave tonight because I'm getting sacked with snow but I'll leave tomorrow morning as soon as the planes are ready to leave the ground. Okay?"

"Okay! I'll see you tomorrow night!"

"I love you!"

"I love you too! Be careful in the snow!"

"I will! Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!"

He heard Donna hang up the phone, but all he could do was stand there, holding the reciever while he pumped his arms into the air.

* * *

**KEVIN REYBURN-STRATTON  
Senior  
Major: Business**

**REGGIE STRATTON  
Senior  
Major: Business**

When the Stratton Boys rolled into the bar named 8 O'Clock High, everybody took notice.

Kevin was the older one, a black, muscle-bound man who didn't do too much talking but Goddamn, could he throw a football. Reggie was white, lean, but fast as hell and even if he wasn't, nobody dared lay a finger on him. Not out of fear of violent retribution, mind you; they just didn't know what the hell someone like Reggie would do if he was messed with.

"Yo, Charlie," Reggie greeted the bartender.

"How's it going, boys?" Charlie greeted, "Sorry about the season."

"Ah, fuck the season," responded Reggie, "I'll meet the Post Pioneers again when I wave to them from the field at Gillette Stadium."

"Hey! Darkie! We don't serve fried chicken in here!"

The offending voice belonged to a new guy, sitting at a table with three other friends, obviously drunk enough to think that that he was in 1960's Mississippi. He was college age, southern accent, with equally drunk college friends.

Reggie looked before Kevin did, and when Kevin looked, he didn't seem all that interested. When Reggie looked, though, everbody got a feeling that they were about to find out what would happen when somebody crossed Reggie's path.

Nobody got the feeling, however, that Reggie was going to laugh.

"BWAHAHAHAHAH!" he bellowed, pointing at the drunken bastards, "OH MY GOD THAT IS FUNNY!" He turned to the rest of the bar. "YOU GUYS GET IT, RIGHT?"

Everybody stared in shocked silence.

"THAT GUY'S A NIGGER! GET IT? ALL NIGGERS HAVE DARK SKIN! AND IF THAT WASN'T ENOUGH, ALL THEY EVER DO IS EAT FRIED CHICKEN, AND THAT'S WHY IT'S FUNNY! GET IT? GOT IT? HUH? HUH?" Reggie started laughing again. "CHARLIE," he motioned to the bartender, "Such originality deserves a beer! Get this guy a beer--what's your name?"

"Ryan."

"RYAN," he bellowed, "Get...RYAN...a beer."

Charlie, the bartender, looked strangely at Reggie until Kevin gave him a nod. Charlie grabbed a bottle of beer and slid it over to Reggie. Reggie opened the beer and walked toward the table where Ryan and his friends were sitting.

"So, hey, I've got a joke..." Reggie, chuckling, took a seat at Ryan's table and made himself comfortable. "So this nigger and his white brother walks into a bar, right? No, wait, actually they're stepbrothers, but whatever-the-fuck-ever. Anyway, they walk into the bar, and you're you--"

There was an audible SMASH and before anybody could react Ryan was on the ground and his three friends were being held hostage by Reggie who was armed with a broken beer bottle. "WHO'S FUCKING NEXT?" he shouted, "DARE ME! DARE ME!"

The three friends didn't dare to dare, instead electing to bolt out the door.

Lean, but fast as hell.

Ryan, having regained conciousness, tried to crawl out the door with blood pouring down over eyes, but Reggie had grabbed him by the ear. "Hey, Kev, wanna do the honors?"

Kevin Stratton got off of his seat and strolled toward Ryan as if giving him the beating of his life would be just another day. Kevin grabbed Ryan by his hair and lifted him to his eyes.

"From now on," said Kevin, "You see a brother eating fried chicken, you assume the brother just felt like fried chicken. And before you think about using any word starting with the letter 'n,' you better look around for my ass first. Because if I'm around to hear it, y'all gonna be tasting your own shit on the tip of my shoe. Got it?"

"Y-yeah."

"Now all we gotta do is make sure you remember it."

CRASH went Ryan through the window to laughter, applause, shock, and a little anger. Kevin simply went back to his seat, again as if he had done nothing. Reggie took the time to bow before he came back.

"Hey, Charlie," asked Kevin as he sat back down, "How much is that window?"

"Just dedicate a Super Bowl to me and you're good to go."

"Yeah," Kevin chuckled, "Sure thing."

"I'm just kiddin', ya cheap bastard. A hundred bucks and a couple of favors and we'll call it even."

"Deal. Got it, Reg?"

"A hundred bucks and a couple of favors," said Reggie as he sat back down, "That's fair. Toast to it?"

Charlie poured three beers, one for each person, and toasted the agreement. "We'll pay you tomorrow," said Kevin.

"No sweat," said Charlie, "I know you boys are good for it."

* * *

**CURTIS BALK  
Freshman  
Major: Film**

_"You see, the key there was to use the bond to trick the defense," said Reggie Stratton, "They all think Kevin's gonna throw me the ball because we're brothers and we know each other best. But he can pull off a play just as well with Ty or Chris. The only difference between Ty and Chris and me is that he doesn't need to say as much to me, y'know?" Reggie chuckled as he said that last part,_ and Curtis Balk froze him by hitting the space bar.

Curtis went to his footage bin in Final Cut Pro and got a real sweet play from October 2004's homecoming game. Last play of the game, and the Regal Falls Generals were down by four with 40 yards to go. The formation said "Pass." The formation said "Reggie was the primary reciever." But when Kevin snapped the ball, the formation was revealed as a pathological liar. Not only did Kevin not pass to Reggie (who was covered six ways from Sunday), but he handed it off to Tyrone Buñel, who marched the full 40 yards with help from blocker Tafare "Terry" Berry and won the game. The play, created by Reggie Stratton, was christened "Con Job" and thanks to its sporadic employ, the Generals would steal countless games with it.

Curtis did some tinkering with the footage of this play. In the end, when he integrated the footage into the movie, it looked like this.

_REGGIE: You see, the key there was to use the bond to trick the defense._

_(CUT TO: "Con Job", 10/7/04. Everybody's at the line of scrimmage.)_

_REGGIE (VOICEOVER): They all think Kevin's gonna throw me the ball because we're brothers and we know each other best._

_(Ball is snapped.)_

_REGGIE (V.O., CONT'D): But he can pull off a play just as well with (FREEZE FRAME, ZOOM IN on handoff to Buñel) Ty or Chris._

_(CUT TO: Reggie Stratton interview.)_

_REGGIE: The only difference between Ty and Chris and me is that he doesn't need to say as much to me, y'know? (Laughs.)_

_(CUT TO: "Con Job", 10/7/04. From handoff. Buñel runs the ball 40 yards with Berry for touchdown.)_

Curtis stopped the movie again, satisfied.

"Hey, snow's starting to fall," said Chris, the director of the documentary Curtis was editing, "C'mon, close up and get outta here before it gets too bad."

Curtis turned to Chris. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You're ahead of schedule as is. Go on, get going. You don't want to stay in the film department all day, do you?"

"No, sir. Thanks a lot."

"No problem. Have a safe drive."

At the first red light Curtis came across, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in Elza Schneider's number. After a couple of rings, she picked up and said "Hey, I'm just getting in. How far off are you?"

"About five minutes."

* * *

**ELZA SCHENIDER  
Sophomore  
Major: Accounting**

"I'll see you then, babe. Love you."

"Love you too."

Elza hung up and got back to planning the night. There was a chicken bake in the oven that would be ready to serve in about twenty minutes. The table was set. The movie, _Cellular_, was on the coffee table. Everything was great except for the wave of nausea that had suddenly hit her, and Elza made a move to correct that by heading into the bathroom for some Pepto-Bismol.

She opened the bathroom door and opened the medicine cabinet, the stomace medicine staring back at her. She reached for--

**_FLASH_**

Was the sound heard in her mind when it suddenly felt like the veins in her face started channeling battery acid instead of her blood  
_Oh fucking shit oh fucking shit no  
_and she dropped to the sink and started running cold water, as cold as she could get it, splashing herself with it is much as possible but the pain wasn't going away  
_Dear God no don't let this happen not now  
_the water didn't do anything and she shut the door even though she heard the knock on her door  
_Curtis go away please go  
_and she sat in her bathtub breathing in...and out...and in...and out...

_Wasting away again in Margaritaville  
__Searching for my lost shaker of salt  
__Some people say that there's a woman to blame  
__But I know it's my own damn fault_

She was all right now.

In...and out...and in...and out.

This had to be the strongest attack she had ever had. She could only sit and wonder if it was a fluke, or if the "devil" within her was getting stronger.

She heard the knocking on the door again and she wanted to cry.

She resolved to cry later, putting on her best smile, drying off her face,and walking out to the front door.


	2. Happiness

_What is happiness to me? I remember hearing somebody ask a main character that in one of my favorite movies._

_Happiness to me, was and is found within four people. Three are gone. The other's here. For how long, I don't know. But right now, I'm happy. Right now is all I have. It's all I need. Right now will be gone one day, but the future's going to bring a fifth person as long as they don't catch up with me._

_But I'm going to concentrate on Person Number Four. After losing three people close to me, I've become pretty good at moving on after pouring so much energy into someone. Some might argue that it's amazing I don't simply shut down emotionally in defense. I say, some watch too many movies._

* * *

**ELZA SCHNEIDER'S APARTMENT  
Regal Falls, MA  
November 14, 2006**

They didn't even finish the movie.

About the time Eric Christian Olsen delivered his line about whales having very large penises, Elza made a lighthearted crack about Curtis's own manhood. Thirty minutes later, twenty of them loud, they shared an orgasm in bed and fell asleep.

Elza opened her eyes to the unkempt bedroom around her. She smiled, relishing the feeling of her lover's arm around her waist and his hand oscillating her breast...

_Wait..._

Elza brushed her foot against Curtis's leg in response to his gentle, arousing movements. "I'm hungry, you know?"

"So?"

"So, you're putting me in a very difficult position," responded Elza with equal parts sugar, spice, and sleep in her voice, "I'm in the place right now where it's impossible to decide whether to eat or fuck."

"Well, uh, give me another minute," grinned Curtis, "I'll move my hand and you won't have such a hard time."

Elza guffawed in shock, kicking Curtis in the leg and jumping out of her bed, its spread covering the more important parts of her naked body, save for a glorious glimpse of her lovely heart shaped behind. She skipped away into the main room, throwing the bedspread away behind her.

"How does blueberry pancakes sound?" Elza called.

Curtis smiled. "I like blueberry pancakes."

* * *

**STRATTON BROS. DORM ROOM  
Tennyson Hall**

_"If you wanna take my body tonight,  
Then you gotta be somebody tonight  
Use me just to make your body feel right  
If you wanna take my body tonight"_

Regal Falls University dealt with some nasty snowfalls in their time. The pathways were actually lined with ropes so that students could pull themselves to classes in the event of a "can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face" snowstorm. Digging out of three feet of snow wasn't an extraordinary task for those who lived in Regal Falls - or in Massachusetts, for that matter. School closings weren't too uncommon, either.

But closing for _fifteen inches_? Well, that was just cause for a celebration.

Reggie and Kevin woke up at 9 in the morning, downed chasers to kill the hangover, found out the news, and ran up and down the hall knocking on doors and spreading the good news - school was closed, and there was plenty to eat and drink at room 27. Beer, of course, would be broken out after 5 PM, music would be played after 9:30 AM, and many asses would be kicked during 8-player Madden after NOW.

"All RIGHT," commanded Reggie, "I speak on behalf of Regal Pride today! Defending the honor of the Generals, will be me, Reggie Stratton, and my brothah of anothah colah--"

"Fuck you, Reggie," said Kevin, "All right, it's me, Reggie, Dani Brashier, and Mikey Nuts playing on one team, and we're taking on all comers until the highly unlikely event that we lose. Who's our first victim?"

Four geeky boys stormed forward - the leader of the pack, a kid with wire-rimmed glasses, called out, "We, the Knights of Dungeons and Dragons, accept your challenge! And we'd like to offer you these words of challenge: **_We're gonna fuck you up the ass so hard in Madden you'll swear you were gay!_**"

"Well **_LET'S FIRE THAT MOTHERFUCKER UP!_**" screamed Reggie.

Kevin turned on the TV, which was already tuned to channel four. In the very short span of time that the TV feed was coming through, one could glimpse a female newscaster stuck in the snow - one Nadia Sparrow, more "ratings whore" than "journalist". The type of person who looked at the Natalee Holloway coverage and thought "Amateurs."

She was standing in the middle of the snowstorm, a person lying in the snow in the background. "--behind me has succumb...wait, he's get--"

The motherfucker in question was fired up to the cheers of a crowd drunk on life and the leftover part of childhood innocence that could appreciate a good snow day. The rock music played on.

_"God takes time on it  
He never made a dime on it  
Use me just to make your body feel right  
Well god killed the queen"_

* * *

**LINCOLN AVENUE  
Near Brookville Apartments  
**

"OK, so that whole plan about me being romantic and getting the next flight out is crashing and burning," said Jimmy as he drove down Lincoln Avenue.

"Jimmy--"

"So, new plan. The planes should be dug out by tomorrow, I should be jetting out of there by then."

"Jimmy--"

"You gotta believe me, if I could use my superhuman strength to yank a plane out a snowbank and use my superintelligence to fly to you--"

"Jimmy!" comforted Donna, "Breathe for me, all right, baby?"

Jimmy took a deep, audible breath for his future wife to hear over the phone.

"Jimmy, it's not like I'm standing at the altar here. The snow's going to melt eventually. Just get to LA when you're able to. We've got the rest of our lives to worry about not seeing each other."

"Thanks," deadpanned Jimmy, "Now I'll probably die in a plane crash."

"Well, it could make a nice sob story for the eventual network coverage." Donna switched to a mock sobbing voice. "I told him to be paitent, but he just HAD to take that early flight!"

"Oh, you evil bitch!" chuckled Jimmy.

"I am evil," she vocally grinned, "And you're going to be fine. 36 hours from now, you're really going to find out what Hell is when I start planning for the wedding during sex."

"I'm looking forward to it already. Talking about dress colors makes me hard."

As Jimmy passed Brookville Apartments, he caught a familiar glimpse of a girl with blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. He smiled, nodding to no one in particular, just out of some reflex.

"Listen," Jimmy spoke into the reciever, "Why don't you call me back in about five minutes? I need to say hi to a student."

"All right, babe, talk to you soon."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Jimmy folded up his cell phone and slipped to a stop, poking his head out of the window as he held on to the brake. Yep, that was Elza, all right, and she was helping a guy into the car. And since he didn't look like he was related to her, he had to assume that he was simply a lucky bastard.

And now his assumption was confirmed as he saw the two lovers neck each other in the parking lot. His smile turned stupid as he slammed his fist on the horn and screamed "What the fuck is your problem? You can't PDA outside of school grounds! It's not right!"

Elza looked up, shook her head, smiled. "Hey, Doc!" she responded as she motioned to her boyfriend to wait up, "How're the roads?"

"Garbage, as one would expect," replied Jimmy.

Elza walked towards him. "What are you doing out on the roads anyway?" she asked.

"I was trying to get a flight out to LA," he said, "I just asked Donna to marry me."

Elza gasped. "Get the hell out of here!" she exclaimed, leaning into the window to give her professor as big a hug as she could manage, "Way to go!"

"Thanks, Elza," said Jimmy, still caught in her embrace.

"Oh, hey, speaking of lovers," diverted Elza as she broke her hug, mentioning the boyfriend, a swell looking kid of Elza's age, brown hair, glasses, to come on over. "I should introduce you two. Doc, this is my boyfriend, Curtis. Curtis, this is Doc McNeil. People think I'm boning him for an A."

"Nice to meet you," said Curtis, shaking Jimmy's hand, "I wouldn't blame her if that's true."

"Oh, good," said Jimmy, hoping his wit showed through because if it didn't, well, that would just be creepy. "Anyway, I'm heading home to curl up with Arrested Development until they dig out a plane to LA."

"Well, I'm dropping off Curtis at Tennyson Hall, so...I guess I'll be following you."

"All right, then."

* * *

**UNIVERSITY ROAD  
Within Regal Falls University  
**

Jimmy drove carefully through the ice-slicked roads, smiling at thoughts of radio and television stations informing him of when he could meet Donna again. He could even swear that he heard their song playing - whoops, his cell phone was ringing.

He reached to the passanger seat to grab it.

* * *

"Well, despite the hitting on you thing, he seems like a good guy." 

"Don't read too much into it," said Elza, "He likes to bust chops." Her eyes went soft and her smile grew wide as she watched Doc's SUV ahead of her. "The whole thing started in class when he did a quick, on-tangent lecture about professors who sleep with students," she recalled, "He used me as an example, pretended to flirt, and I just shot it right back at him, because, you know, I like to bust chops too."

"Obviously."

"But, look, you should know that he's not some perverted guy and I'm not some slut. He took me to his office and made it clear that nothing was going to happen between us. He's actually getting married, and he really loves her. You should hear him talk about her. It can be gross sometimes."

"I...I don't know," muttered Curtis, "I still...forget it. Despite what I might think, he seems like a great guy either way."

"Hey, don't be afraid to speak your mind! Am I going to stop seeing him because you don't like him? No. But I'm not gonna get all bitchy about it. I can see where--"

"HOLY FUCK!"

It all happened so fast, it could only be seen in stills. The woman that went under the truck. Doc jumping out of his car. Elza and Curtis bolting to Doc's side. Doc checking for a pulse. Curtis walking around in circles unsure of what to do with himself.

And the look. The look on that woman's face. Her bloodless, lifeless, white face and jaundiced eyeballs.

_Jaundiced eyeballs...?_

Not since years ago had Elza ever known to be stiff, as in unmoving, as in not having feeling in any part of her body below her jaw. Her lungs started to shake, her leg, her hand, her eye started to twitch and _Jesus Christ, not now!_

A hand on her shoulder snapped her back to reality. She looked at Curtis and heard "Is everything all right?"

She looked at Doc, trying to get a pulse from the woman's _Doc's hands are near the mouth!_

"Doc, GET AWA--"

There was a CRUNCH and a scream and a sickening squeeze as the body chewed into Doc's hand, and Elza threw her body into Doc, ripping his thumb from the ghoul's jaws as they tumbled into the snow outside the road. Doc yelled out for yelling's sake, as if he could force the pain out of his mouth and tearducts.

"ELZA!"

Elza swung her foot around and sent her - the zombie, it was a zombie, Jesus Christ - flying back. She could almost feel her body going on automatic pilot then, her memory a blur of kicks and dodges and her vision going read, her mind becoming clear only when the zombie's head was under the rear wheel of Doc's SUV.

"CURTIS! GET IN THAT SUV AND HIT THE GAS!"

"WHAT'S GOING--"

"**_RIGHT NOW, GODDAMMIT!_**"

She saw Curtis bolting to the SUV. She saw him jump into the front seat. The zombie was gnashing and thrashing around, Elza struggling against everything to avoid her--its bites. She grunted, drumming up the strength to keep its shoulders pinned on the icy ground.

She looked at Doc, passed out. He had to be passed out, no way does T-virus act that fast.

"GRAH!" Elza jumped away and she felt its disgusting teeth narrowly miss her ear. Its shoulders were up once more. Elza could feel its legs jerk from under her - she flew back into its face and beat her back to the ground.

"CURTIS!"

"HANG ON!"

"CURTIS, THIS IS LIFE AND DEATH!**_ SLAM THAT FUCKING GAS NOW!_**"

A loud roar from the driver's seat, and the car barrelled forward, rolling over the zombie's head with a loud POP. The brain rocketed out of the zombie's skull and the body went limp once more.

Elza heard a loud SCRREEECH and looked up to see the truck skid on the ice and whip around.

_Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck_.

She saw the car deposit Curtis onto the road and breathed a sigh of relief as the car tripped into a roll, finally coming to a stop by crashing into a snowbank.

In...and out...in...and out...in...out...in...

Elza shot up and ran towards Curtis, slipping and skidding on the ice but never, never stopping her run no matter what slowed her down. She found herself at Curtis's side on her hands and knees.

"Whee," breathed Curtis.

"Anything broken?" asked Elza.

"I don't...what's up with Doc?"

"I'm fine," responded Doc, weak. "There's a first aid kit in my trunk, can it be accessed?"

Elza looked at the salvageable wreck.

"Curtis, can you walk?"

"What's going on, Elza?"

"CAN YOU WALK?"

"**TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!"**

"Listen to me very carefully. What we just killed is a zombie. You know what that is? They're the same creatures that destroyed Raccoon City. In about a few hours, these...THINGS...will be all over the city and the only law that will apply to Regal Falls is Darwinism. Now, before that happens, though, I'm counting on us to be WAY out of the city limits and on our way to Boston, because the only other option is being eaten alive. Now, do you two understand EVERYTHING I've just told you?"

Doc nodded. Curtis said "Yes."

"Do either of you want to be eaten alive?"

The both of them shook their heads.

"Then here's where we start. Curtis, get your ass to the car right now and GET THE GODDAMN FIRST AID KIT."

---

(A/N: Song lyrics from "God Killed the Queen" by Louis XIV.)


	3. A Friend in a High Place

_Never get too comfortable. When you're always looking over your shoulder, everything is fine. They always come when you stop looking._

_But why do I need to say this? Why does such an idea bear repeating? I knew this. I always knew._

_How did I forget? How did the memory of running become so blurry?_

_I need to stop. I need to get this fucking monkey off my back. I need to grow up into a normal, healthy young woman. But I don't need that until later. Right now, I just need a friend in a high place._

* * *

**BLUE DAWN HEADQUARTERS  
Washington, D.C.**

_I just needed a fucking job._

Whenever he found himself with a few moments with his thoughts, Leon Kennedy could never stop himself from reflecting on how he got to where he was to begin with.

He had the sort of responsibility that every law enforcement geek was both envious and frightened of: protect the President's daughter - a very beautiful daughter who happened to have the hots for him at that - and head up a few task forces on the Commander in Chief's orders. Great. Whoopie. How did he get it?

He found himself with a few such think-worthy moments as he rode the elevator up to Blue Dawn Headquarters with the second-in-command assigned to him: a cute latina girl, couldn't be any older than 25.

_Look strong. Be friendly._

"I don't think we've met," said Leon.

The latina nodded and stuck her hand out. "Agent Marlene Pena," she greeted, "FBI."

"FBI? Pardon my asking, but you look like a rookie. How'd you get involved?"

"I got wind of this by accident. I had friends in Raccoon City so I was eager to jump in."

Leon nodded, unsure of whether to put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm very sorry...to hear that."

"Well, not for too much longer. Due to your past history, I've been asked to keep an eye on you and assume temporary command if things get too hairy."

"Bean counter, huh?"

"Afraid so. Look, Agent Kennedy, I have my ideas about what we should do, but I have no misconceptions of myself. Don't expect too much interference on my part unless things get out of hand and it's clear that you're in no shape to lead this operation. Until then, if you want me to just get you coffee, I'm at your service. I just want to be there when you guys stop those bastards."

The elevator was almost at its destination.

Leon gave Marlene a curious look. "You being groomed for anything in particular?"

"Damage control scenarios," said Marlene, "Say we deal with another Raccoon City or 9/11 or Hurricane Katrina type disaster, I'm learning how to plan out riot controls to keep the damage minimal."

"I see. How much did they tell you about me?"

Marlene took a deep breath. "Permission to speak freely?"

Leon nodded. "Speak your mind."

"I know about Operation Reach Out, and that makes me nervous. But I know that you have firsthand experience with these mutegens and anyway, who am I to talk about inexperience, so..." Marlene blinked. "Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't answer--"

"You did, Marlene. That's what I wanted to know. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir."

The elevator dinged. "Run your interference, Marlene," said Leon, "Just be respectful."

The elevator doors opened. "Yes sir."

Blue Dawn was an initiative created by a few senators looking to get some votes in the wake of Umbrella's shutdown. They even named it in defiance of Umbrella, because one shouldn't be able to spell "re-election" without "propaganda". However, that was all Blue Dawn was good for in the eyes of said senators - six more years - and it showed.

It's been said that getting a job with Blue Dawn is the best and worst thing that could ever happen to a government agent. That's because people were paid the same salary as most people in government jobs for half the work. Headquarters looked less like a government superagency and more like like an office floor of Adjective Noun Incorporated, and normally it was run as such - the extraordinary circumstances being the first six months of Blue Dawn's operation. Everything, the cubicle walls, the cheap plasticy material they were made out of, the carpet, the ceiling, the offices, were all varying shades of grey. The members of the initiative passed the time by playing Tetris and Half-Life and office football and pretending to work when budget time came around. Nobody would have ever guessed that this area was where people kept tabs on the specific viruses that Umbrella had engineered.

On this morning, however, Blue Dawn was abuzz like no other time in its history. President Graham had moved for an emergency allocation of resources, and he did so on the slip for once to make sure things moved as opposed to being tossed around the bureaucracy of the House and Senate. As a result, Blue Dawn dealt with a little more personnel, a little less office football, and a lot more nerves.

And those nerves only quadrupled when Leon Kennedy walked in.

"How did he wind up back here?"

"Somebody's got some brass balls..."

"...arrogant prick think he is...?"

Leon and Marlene took the front of the office. "Attention! Everyone, I need your attention!"

The room quieted down, and every eye fell onto the mop-headed, clean-shaven redhead at the front of the room.

"A lot of you people know me. For those that don't, I am special agent Leon Kennedy of the United States Secret Service. For those that do, I am here because I've been appointed by the President to take over this task force for the moment. He DOES know about Operation Reach Out. He also knows what a colossal failure it was. This is a different mission; it's a containment mission. And I do not intend to cowboy through this one, ladies and gentlemen, but it's important to me, to ALL of us, that we get this settled right now. To remind you, within the next twenty-four hours, a city is going to get dosed with an Umbrella-branded mutegen and we will have another Raccoon City on our hands, maybe. I'm going to assume that it will happen, and so should all of you. Now, when I was briefed fifteen hours ago, I was told that all we knew was that there was going to be a strike on the Northeast, if at all. What's changed?"

Not even a cough was issued from a single person in the crowd. A telephone rang in the background.

"Get that phone. I want ANSWERS. I want to know who might be responsible and I want to know where it's going to strike. I sure as shit did NOT come here to stick my thumb up my ass, and neither did the person I'm about to introduce you to." The phone stopped ringing. "This is Agent Marlene Pena of the FBI. If you do not want to hear anything from me, you WILL hear it from her because that's the only way we're going to decode whether or not this threat is real. Now if anyone wants to say something different, speak now."

"Agent Kennedy?"

A bald man in the back of the crowd was making his dissent known.

"She's asking for you."

"Who is?"

"She didn't say."

Leon strode to the back of the room and grabbed the phone. "Kennedy."

"There are zombies in Regal Falls, Massachusetts," stated the voice on the phone.

Leon sprung into action, motioning for a trace and for quiet. One of the men ran into a nearby windowed room and pressed a few buttons, motioning for Leon to continue.

"Say that again, please?" asked Leon.

"There are ZOMBIES in Regal Falls, Massachusetts. Get off your ass and do something, Leon!"

"Who are you?"

"That's not important."

"How do you know my name, then? How did you reach, know where to reach me?"

"I kept some connections open, I can't say anything more than that. Are you tracing this call?"

"No, why?"

"Trace me. Figure out where I am, get my number, get the calvary here, just start securing shit. I've got a man who needs serious attention here."

"Okay, I lied. Your trace should be done...now."

The trace operator ran a slip of paper over to Leon, who read it. "Jimmy McNeil, huh? Have any work done on you recently?"

"Very funny."

"You're on a cell phone. Where are you headed?"

"Boston. I'm picking up supplies first, then I'm heading out there. I need someone to meet us there with a few hits of Daylight, we've got somebody among us who's infected."

"Shit!"

"Leon, pay attention! Four things: Daylight, guns, cavalry, Regal Falls Mass. Are we crystal?"

"If someone's infected, screw the supplies! You either make tracks for Logan International or...or that's it. You sound like a young lady and I'm not sure I want to give you the alternative. Then again, I'm not sure I need to. Now, are YOU 'crystal' with me?"

"HEY! I don't want to argue, I can't afford to argue, so you listen the fuck up! I am well fucking aware of the alternative, and there's no fucking way I'm going through with it! Just like there's no fucking way we're going to be able to leave this goddamn fuckhole of a town without supplies! Now, you get a strike team or whatever the fuck you can manage down to Regal Falls and you set up shop at Logan International Airport. I will meet you there, and you better have some fucking Daylight with you! Several doses in case anybody else gets bit! And if you're planning on doling out executions--"

"Whoa, let's not get--"

"WHY DON'T YOU INDULGE MY PARANOIA FOR A GODDAMN SECOND? If there's a hit squad waiting for us when we get there, you better fucking believe that I will take down as many of you bastards as I can before you get me. Now for the last time, ARE WE CRYSTAL? Or do you still think I'm dicking around?"

"No...no, we're crystal."

"I'll see you at Logan International." Click.

On any other day, Leon would've flinched, but in a split second, he decided to wait until later to do so. "We have confirmation," he announced, barely showing any signs of recent emasculation, "Regal Falls, Massachusetts. You heard the little lady. I want Logan Airport shut down and set up for mobile command, how long will that take?"

"Three hours if I make the call now," Marlene stated.

"Then make it now," Leon fired back, "I want half the crew here, including you and myself, I want a fully armed containment team prepped to insert themselves into Regal Falls, and I want doctors, lots of them, with Daylight vaccines, and I want them all gathered at Logan International with whatever electronic equipment will serve us best. SPARE NO EXPENSE. The people staying here, I wanna know, five minutes ago, who the hell I just spoke to on the phone. Analyze the voice recording, profile her, and try to come up with a match on SSD. Finally, press. Keep them in the dark for as long as you--"

"Not happening, Agent Kennedy," said Jim Naylan, Blue Dawn's public relations guy, "We just found out that there was a clip of Nadia Sparrow and her camera crew released on national television. They're all dead. Raccoon City didn't get this much coverage."

"...You mean...the PRESS...IS AHEAD OF US? **_HOW THE FUCK DID THAT HAPPEN?_**"

"We don't know anything at this point."

"Well, you better fucking know something by the time I'm ready to get on the next helicopter to Boston, or I'll sack the fucking lot of you. Get to work, NOW." Leon stormed into his office, shouting "**_MOTHERFUCKER!_**" before slamming the door behind him.

As he sit at his desk, trying to figure out his next move, he heard a knock on the door, and saw Marlene standing outside. "Yeah, come in," he grumbled.

Marlene entered and shut the door behind her.

"So," sulked Leon, "you ready to assume command yet?"

"What? And be in your shoes?" joked Marlene, before empathing "Look, that press thing was beyond your control, Leon. That was Naylan's responsibility, and with your permission, I'd like to place him under investigation."

"It's a good plan for later. I'll let you know before we head out for Boston. Right now, let's see if they can figure out something."

"OK, seems reasonable. And also, yeah, that girl did sort of chew you out, but...I kind of think you were on the money with that whole 'operation' theory."

Leon managed a smile.

* * *

"Who's infected?" asked Doc, as he lay in the backseat of his SUV that Curtis was driving, "Me?"

Elza nodded, sitting right next to him. "I--"

"No, no," interrupted Doc, "Unlike some people, I watch the news, so let me take a wild guess. That was a zombie, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I take it it wasn't just some 'I-rose-from-a-grave-and-I-want-to-eat-your-brains' zombie, that thing was created with that T-Virus?"

Elza remained quiet.

"So what is this, I ask questions, you tell me if I'm wrong?"

Silence.

"OK...so when that thing bit me, I became infected with T-Virus?...Which means I'm going to become some bloodthirsty, braindead demon?"

"You're wrong," shot Elza.

"That's right, you were talking about this...Sunlight or Daylight--"

"Yeah, Daylight. It's a cure for any Umbrella mutegen that was smuggled out of Raccoon City and we're going to get it to you."

"When?"

"As soon as we get to Logan International--"

"Elza, look at me." Elza looked into Doc's eyes, reading fear and, surprisingly, a steadfast rationality that burned a hole right into her, and he repeated "When?"

"I don't know," responded Elza, "It depends on how long this will take. We need to go back to the campus and get some personal belongings out of Curtis's room. Which will take no more than five minutes. After that, we get out of Dodge--"

"How long can I hold out?"

Elza took a deep breath. "Depends on how strong you are."

"And this is a perfect time to tell you exactly how strong you looked when I first met you," Curtis cut in, "Seriously, I think you're going to make it."

"I can't...I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't...I couldn't live with myself, I mean, I wouldn't be living anyway, but if there's an afterlife, and I knew that I, my body, was going to wake up and kill you all...just...you need to kill me. I've got a gun at my house, just drop me off, I can put a bullet in my head and--"

"STOP," powered Curtis, "Nobody's going to die! Now maybe we can use that gun that you've got, but we're not using it on you. And Elza, I know you're Little Miss Badass, but you better fucking side with me on this because I don't care if he rips my throat out, I'm not killing anybody who's still technically alive!"

"I am on your side," said Elza, "And his."

"What?"

"Doc, I'll make you a deal. If I see you, eyes fixed and or closed, and you're not moving? I'll call your name three times. If you don't respond, I'll kill you."

"PURELY a hypothetical situation, Doc."

"Curtis!" sassed Elza, before continuing to Doc, "That fair?"

"Yeah, just as long...I have to talk to my wife first."

"I'll try and arrange that while we're at Tennyson Hall. Meanwhile, survival plan. No gunshops around here because it's a college town, but maybe there's a police station we can hit that'll give us some riot gear and guns we can use. So we'll hit that second."

"Tennyson Hall first?"

"Yeah, Curtis, I don't want you to lose anything valuable, but you only get two minutes to get your shit together. After that, we leave. Possibly for good."

"What about survivors?"

"In my state?" asked Doc, incredulously, "We can't take anybody. I'm a hazard."

"Not fucking yet you are," growled Curtis, "You quit thinking like that. You think about your fianceé, you think about all the babies you're going to make, the house you're going to buy, and you think about the California sunshine that it's all going to start under, you hear me?"

"Yeah..." squeaked Doc.

"No! No!" responded Curtis, his voice filling up with emotion and rage, "Not 'yeah...', you repeat after me: Fuck yeah!"

"Fuck yeah," grumbled Doc, matter of factly

"FUCK YEAH!" motivated Curtis.

"Fuck yeah," Doc regurgitated.

"You say it like you mean it!" commanded Curtis, "You say it like, like that goddamn virus don't mean shit to you but another obstacle, a PISSANT obstacle, between you and your girl! Now GET MAD! GET COCKY! GET FUCKING CRAZY! And let me hear you take all that and give me, **_FUCK YEAH!_**"

"Fuck yeah!" Doc repeated with a little more fire.

Curtis cheered him on with another "FUCK YEAH!"

"Fuck YEAH!" Doc powered

"FUCK YEAH!" Curtis shouted again.

And this time, finally, Doc met his enthusiasm. "FUCK YEAH!" he shouted back.

"You goddamn right, fuck yeah!" enthused Curtis, "You just keep thinking 'bout that, Doc. You feel yourself start to slip, you remember what you're fighting for and you start shouting that out!"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm gonna make it."

"You bet your ass we are," said Curtis, "We're all gonna make it. Nobody deserves to die in George Romero's fuck fantasy."

"No," Doc laughed, "No they don't."

And all this time, Elza sat there, laughing at the George Romero crack but otherwise damning Curtis in her own mind.

Nobody deserves to have such a rotten thing as false hope.

Nobody.


End file.
